


what if i'm far from home?

by All_out_of_love_and_pizza



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Family, Found Family, I love her, Pranking, Team Bonding, Team Voltron bonding - Freeform, Zine Work, Zines, found family trope, found family voltron, in the VERY background, minor slight hinted at klance, my piece for a zine, pidge x being a gremlin, pidge x being shiro's worst nightmare, prank, they prank shiro a whole lot, zine: cosmic dust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-04
Updated: 2019-05-04
Packaged: 2020-02-21 17:06:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18706642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_out_of_love_and_pizza/pseuds/All_out_of_love_and_pizza
Summary: My piece for the Cosmic Dust Zine!They began, slowly but surely, dragging her back up into the vent. She reached out to take a packet of space juice on her way up; pranking made her awfully thirsty——Oh god, oh no. With a crash (that honestly was ridiculously loud—it was only some space juice) as she reached for it, the rope jerked and she knocked it over.The rope slowly (ever so slowly—and creaking, the blasted thing), spun her around to face a very groggy, bewildered Shiro.“Uhh.”“Katie, why, god why, are you in my room.”She dangled. “Would you believe you’re dreaming?”His tired eyes showed murderous intent.“Okay, so that’s a no.”





	what if i'm far from home?

**Author's Note:**

> Go check out @cosmicdustzine on tumblr to download the zine! All the proceeds go to the True Colors Fund, a charity for homeless LGBT+ youth.

So, maybe, Pidge considered as she hung suspended from a rope, dangling haphazardly over Shiro’s bed with giggles echoing faintly from the open air duct above her, maybe this wasn’t her best idea.

But then again, she mused, thinking on the potential benefits, maybe it was.

“Pidgeon?” God, did Lance never learn the meaning of ‘be quiet’? 

She looked up at Lance and Hunk, Hunk going a little purple in the face from trying to hold in his laughter. Amateurs. 

“What?” She hissed.

More giggles. Holy cheese and crackers, she should’ve brought Keith. “Are-are you done yet? Our arms are sooo tired!”

She threw him a rude gesture, turning back to the paneling on Shiro’s arm. She was so close—just a few more wires to reconnect, then her life’s dream would be complete. So many months of planning lead to this moment. 

She had traded Lance three weeks of dish duty for his assistance tonight—she wouldn’t have that be for nothing.

Okay, one more touch and she’d be...there! Done! 

She made sure the rope was still holding, then gave a sharp tug as she whispered, “Minions, pull me up!” 

They began, slowly but surely, dragging her back up into the vent. She reached out to take a packet of space juice on her way up; pranking made her awfully thirsty—

—Oh god, oh no. With a crash (that honestly was ridiculously loud—it was only some space juice) as she reached for it, the rope jerked and she knocked it over. 

The rope slowly (ever so slowly—and creaking, the blasted thing), spun her around to face a very groggy, bewildered Shiro. 

“Uhh.” 

“Katie, why, god why, are you in my room.”

She dangled. “Would you believe you’re dreaming?” 

His tired eyes showed murderous intent. 

“Okay, so that’s a no.”

 

Later, Shiro called them into the lounge and sat them down.

“So,” He began, face dangerously blank, eyes glinting. “Which of you guys…”

Oh no, Pidge braced herself for the lecture.

“Knew it was my birthday!” He finished gleefully, nearly bouncing in his seat. With a flourish, he lifted his mechanical arm and activated it, his excitement punctuated with what Pidge had been working towards this whole time. 

A lightsaber noise. 

He sat back, hand still glowing, face split in a giant, almost childlike grin.

“Um.” All three of them said together. 

Pidge took her chance, she was nothing if not an opportunist. “I’m so glad you like my present, Shiro. Happy birthday.”

That didn't go so bad.

 

“Lance!” Hunk warned softly. “Be careful!”

Lance paused, his hands painstakingly rubbing green goop in Shiro’s hair. Honestly, it was a wonder what Shiro could sleep through. “Hunk, if you think this is my first time dyeing hair, you are mistaken. Don’t even worry about it.” He waved his bright green hands with his usual exuberance. “I’ve got this, amigo.”

Pidge, lounging in Shiro’s spinny chair (bought at some space mall a while back) turned around (unusually slowly, but she was caught up in the moment), petting Rover. “Just hurry, boys. We have other matters to attend to tonight.”

“Times like this, Pidgeon, you scare me.” Lance said.

“Good.”

Shiro suddenly let out a huge snore, rolling over, streaking green dye all over his brand new pillowcase.Hunk and Lance looked to Pidge, terrified.

“…Sometimes, boys, there are casualties in war.”

 

The next morning, Shiro hadn’t even realized what happened until Keith started laughing. There was extra training for days, and no one wanted to admit that he actually looked amazing.

 

The next prank didn’t go quite as smoothly.

“Mullet, dios mio, I’m gonna kill you.”

“Yeah? Well, I’ll kill you right back, moron.”

“Okay, guys, cool it!” Hunk pleaded, his voice breaking at least three times. “Someone’s gonna find us.”

With Lance and Keith arguing in the background, Pidge continued hiding Shiro's expensive space eyeliner in the food goo tube.

Pranking was an art which Pidge had mastered long ago, when the first of the Epic Prank Wars of The Holt Family began. She fondly remembered the days of eyebrow-less Matt, or when she had bribed all his friend’s to pretend he was wearing a hat for 6 months. Those were the good old days. Although admittedly she’d never had minion...well, partners, to aid her. With a short burst of warmth, which surprised her, she realized she actually kind of liked it. Having them around to help her and to argue and to giggle.

So as she wove her way throughout the castle ship, leaving various items of Shiro’s around the place, she wasn’t even paying attention to her surroundings—what she would later regard as a fool’s mistake.

“Paladins?”

Oh. Oh no. Her orange mustached nightmare.

She turned slowly, resisting the urge to raise her hands; they were full of Shiro’s eye masks. “Oh! Coran! Hello there.”

Coran scratched his mustache suspiciously. “What are you all doing up at this hour?”

Pidge glanced to her companions. Hunk was practically crying already, Lance had Keith in a headlock but both were frozen, staring helplessly at Coran. 

“Pidge?” The older Altean asked sternly, crossing his arms. 

Crap. Play dumb.“Who’s Pidge?” She asked smoothly.

NOT THAT DUMB!

“BOYS, RUN!”

The content’s of Shiro’s bedroom spilled from behind them as they all frantically took off in different directions, except Keith and Lance, because Lance had forgotten to let go of Keith’s neck. 

“Paladins! Why is there so much--” Coran shouted, stumbling. “So much eye paint?”

“Pidge!”

“What, Keith? This isn’t the time!” She shouted wildly, flinging herself down a corridor, shoes skidding.

“I have an idea!”

 

“Wow, Keith,” Lance sullenly muttered. “I knew you were stupid, but can I say that you definitely outdid yourself here?” 

“Pipe down, he’s coming.”

Pidge really needed to sit down, have a nice, long chat with herself about how she ended up in these situations. 

Because, at the moment, she was hanging upside down from the roof of the training room while Coran hunted for them on the ground. 

She didn’t even wanna know how Keith knew about the bars on the ceiling; the man was insane about his training.

“Paladins? Are you here? Just come out and we’ll discuss this rationally!” 

Ha, she’d heard that before.

Crack.

Oh. Well, crap.

Pidge locked eyes with each boy right before the bars cracked out of the ceiling, (obviously they were not meant to support four nefarious teenagers) sending them plummeting to the floor, directly above Coran.

“KEITH!” Someone screeched. Probably Lance.

THUD!! Oh, ouch.

And they were all on the floor, Coran groaning beneath them as they all lay in the tangled mass of limbs. 

Hunk was twisted half under Keith, Lance’s foot in his mouth. “Oh my god.” He said, shocked. “Oh my god,” he repeated, only now he was giggling.

“Hunk! How can you laugh at a time like…?” Lance started, but halfway through Hunk’s childlike mirth seemed to crack his composure, and he broke into giggling himself.

And that was it, that was all it took (it usually didn’t take much) to send them all into raucous laughter, until they were clutching their stomachs and gasping for breath, tears streaming from smile-crinkled eyes, and Lance’s head bouncing up and down where it lay on Keith’s stomach (which of course set them all laughing even more).

“I’m glad you all find humor in this! I’m not sure Shiro will.” Coran interjected with amused cheer. 

“Oh crap.”

 

“Pidge...are you sure about this? I know...I know that we’ve done some--you know, bad stuff,” Lance looked unsure, seconds away from his resolve faltering when she, nay, the team, needed him steady more than ever.   
“But, I just, I don’t know if I--we, can come back from this one.”

This situation obviously needed a delicate hand. “Lance, we’ve already come this far. We can’t just stop now—we owe it to ourselves to see this through. I know this is a close subject to you personally, but we need to soldier through.” 

Pidge was the shining commander, resplendent with the faith of her troops as she comforted and roused them at every turn; Lance’s eyes began to shine with renewed purpose.

“You’re...you’re right! I can do this.”

“Yes! That’s the spirit Lance!” She clapped her hand on his shoulder, barely even needing to stand on her tiptoes.   
“Now...Put that space food coloring in that face mask!”

“Yeah!” Lance agreed with spirit.

“Uh, that was weird.” Hunk interjected. “Also, not gonna lie, this space food coloring is delicious.”

Pidge glared at her friend, ignoring the bright green stain on his lips. “Can you, just, seriously-- ugh--leave the dye alone, Hunk.”

“Fine, but we’ve been here forever; how long does it take to slip some dye in a facemask?”

“As long as it takes, Hunk, as long as it takes.”

“I don’t understand why you always get so dramatic on these missions.”

 

Shiro was slightly upset when he was roused in the early morning by the sound of an alarm, only to find everyone gathered in the bridge waiting for him, with no emergency in sight. His hair a tragic disaster (still green), and his face, except around his eyes and lips, tinged a sickly, moss green. 

So understandably, when Shiro caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror Pidge so helpfully had propped up, he was a little put off. And even more so when the first words he heard were so gleefully spoken from Lance’s mouth: “O shit, waddup?”

 

 

Everyone (excluding Coran—no one really knew where he was at any given moment) gathered tightly around, Keith, Lance and Hunk sitting on the couch-like thing, with Shiro sitting on another chair to the left, Allura laying with her head in Hunk’s lap, and Pidge curled on her side near Lance’s feet.

Their eyes were fixed on the projection in front of them as it played some sort of Altean rom-com. Lance gasped at all the romantic gestures, crying at nearly everything, while Keith only laughed at the sad parts, and Hunk fell for each bad joke, shaking them all with his laughter. 

“Please, you have to let me go.” A blonde Altean filled the projection with her overly sad face.

“Darling!” The main character pleaded with their beloved. “You can’t marry him. I love you, you love me, it’s always been...us.”

Lance was softly crying, mouthing the lines (wait, how many times has he watched this?) and Keith was   
laughing at Lance, eyes soft, a rare moment of peace between them.

Pidge looked from the movie, glancing briefly at Hunk, styling Allura’s hair in a complex braid. Lance gently poking Keith every time he laughed. Shiro was half-asleep, his arms crossed like a middle-aged dad, snoring just a bit (she made a mental note to get a recording). She heard a slight scratching noise in the vents, and something in her knew it was Coran, which was deeply, deeply concerning, but it still didn’t manage to cut through the warm, glowing bubble they all had built around them. 

It felt like, well, Pidge didn’t know exactly. There wasn’t one word for it, and even the words she strung together didn’t quite seem to match. Perhaps, cocoa-after-a-cold-day. Or when-a-cat-falls-asleep-in-your-lap. But, still, not quite. 

Pidge knew a lot of words, knew how to make herself understood with them; and maybe it was less than the words, but she thought it was, maybe, more.

The couple on screen passionately embraced, the sound of Lance and Hunk cooing setting a familiar background. 

She could get used to this.

Even the bubble couldn't keep her from flinching a little when she remembered evenings like this in her childhood home, surrounded by her father, mother, brother and the warm scent of popcorn and laughter. The feeling of her dog cuddled close, and everyone she loved in the whole world stuck in one room. 

Everyone she loved now would need a bigger room. 

Yes, but it didn’t stay long. She would find them, her other family. 

I promise, she thought, we’ll be together again, Dad. But until then, I think I’m in good hands.

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Sabrina, who's reaction to this piece made my life, and I'll never be over it <3
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> Leave a like and comment if you liked it!


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